


do you want something?

by schittyfic (sixtysevenlmpala)



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: (fisting is talked about only), Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Begging, Crying During Sex, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Fisting, Gratuitous objectification of David's rings, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Patrick Brewer is Thirsty, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Fantasy, Spanking, Thirsty Bottom Patrick Brewer, Top David Rose, Verbal Humiliation, everything is very much consensual, this is just. 3k words of filth you guys.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28035258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtysevenlmpala/pseuds/schittyfic
Summary: “In that case, tell me where you want them.”“Inside me.”“Theywereinside you.”“David,” Patrick gasps out, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. His cock throbs as it steadily fills, hanging heavy between his legs. That cool, detached tone which David affects so easily always gets Patrick so fucking eager to please him. The more David holds back, the more he wants to earn.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 60
Kudos: 220
Collections: Porner Community Service Ficlets





	do you want something?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the Rosebuddies for gently forcing this upon me, and special love to Januarium for telling me this wasn't trash.
> 
> <3

Patrick’s mid-sentence, laughing about the awful movie they saw tonight, but the words die on his lips when he turns to look at David. Casual and cool, barely glancing at him, David deliberately slides his rings off one by one, setting them down in a neat line on the dresser.

David catches him staring and arches an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, do you want something?”

Patrick’s dry-mouthed. He can already feel the blood rushing from his brain to his dick; feel his asshole clench pitifully around nothing. 

David doesn’t always take the rings off during sex. For a lot of what they do, he doesn’t necessarily _need_ to - if safety allows, he’ll keep them on. Mostly because of Patrick. Patrick likes feeling the cold shock of them when David wraps his fingers around his cock, likes feeling them press against his skull when David’s sliding into his mouth. He likes it when they glide over his heated skin, catching on his hard nipples. David will often wear them when Patrick fucks him, a shining adornment clinking against the headboard bars as David grips onto them for dear life. When the tables are turned, Patrick will sometimes insist on prepping himself with his own hasty fingers, so David can keep them on and he can feel the bite of the metal as David grips his wrists, or squeezes his throat.

There’s one situation, though, in which he very much _needs_ to take them off - just one thing which is reliably, intrinsically linked with that action. It’s Pavlovian, at this point. As much as Patrick likes the rings, nothing gets him hard faster than seeing him remove them.

“Huh. Is that a no?” David’s leaning against the dresser now, arms folded, calmly waiting for an answer.

“No - _yes_ ,” Patrick whispers, as faint as the dimple which pops out on David’s cheek.

“Take your clothes off, then, and get on the bed. Show me how much you want it, and maybe I’ll consider giving it to you.”

Patrick has never undressed so fast, leaving his jacket-shirt-jeans-shoes scattered around the floor under David’s vaguely disapproving gaze. Once he’s finally struggled out of his underwear, he clambers ungracefully onto all fours on their bed. Glancing across the room, he sees David hasn’t moved an inch. He’s still dressed in ripped jeans and a t-shirt, and that leather jacket with far too many zips which fits him just right; clinging to his shoulders and cutting in at the waist. He looks like a goddamn _snack_ , and completely unruffled, which only makes Patrick feel wilder.

“David.” He drops his shoulders down to the bed and shoves his knees wider apart, bringing both hands back to spread his cheeks open. His hole feels hot and sensitive already and he hasn’t even been touched. “David.”

David tuts and pushes off from the dresser, stalking to the side of the bed. With one side of his face smashed into the pillow, Patrick blinks up at him as he traces one fingertip delicately all the way from the curve of his ass to the nape of his neck. A shiver chases the touch, goosebumps popping up in its wake. “Suck,” David murmurs, caressing those beautifully deft fingers over Patrick’s cheek until he presses firmly against his lips.

Patrick takes them in instantly, struggling in his position because he doesn’t want to let go of his ass-cheeks, wants to show David how good he can be, how much he wants this. He’s got no leverage and he’s straining to suck them down further, cheeks flushing with it as he gets David’s fingers sloppy-wet. He moans when his lips slide over the smooth indents in the skin, reminding him of where the rings were - where they always are.

“You want these, hmm?”

Patrick nods clumsily, hollowing his cheeks around them as he bats his lashes at David.

“Is this where you want them? You wanna come while I stroke my fingers over your tongue, make you choke on them?”

A whine escapes Patrick's throat. He shakes his head furiously, arching his back so far it twinges sharply. He digs blunt nails into his ass cheeks and pulls them further apart, hissing at the sting.

“ _Oh_ ,” David says, long and drawn out. “You _don’t_ want that.” _Motherfucker_ , Patrick thinks, would say it aloud if his mouth wasn’t full. David pulls his fingers free and smears them around his mouth, getting his swollen lips spit-slick and messy. His tongue lolls out of his mouth, chasing the taste of them. “In that case, tell me where you want them.”

“Inside me.”

“They _were_ inside you.”

“David,” Patrick gasps out, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. His cock throbs as it steadily fills, hanging heavy between his legs. That cool, detached tone which David affects so easily always gets Patrick so fucking eager to please him. The more David holds back, the more he wants to earn. 

It wasn't easy to accept some of the things that get him off, and he still gets caught up trying to untangle the _why_. But now the rings sitting on the dresser are gold, and David wants to _marry him,_ and Patrick can keep figuring it all out with him until the day he dies. With David, he’s slowly learned to follow the impulses which confuse him, knowing he doesn't _need_ to understand the precise inner mechanics of his mind to draw excitement from something.

“I - I want them _in me_ , fuck my ass with them, please.”

David hums, considering, and then leans over to grab Patrick by the hips and manhandle him around so his ass is facing David at the side of the bed. It’s easy to do, Patrick’s so off-balance in the position he’s holding, and he feels himself turn floaty and lax as he lets David place him where he wants him.

Patrick tries in vain to spread himself wider, sneaking his fingers towards his hole and pressing one fingertip inside, dry pressure that makes him wince with need.

“Oh, excuse me, I thought it was _my_ fingers you wanted so bad? I can just sit back and watch, if you want.”

“No - no no, I’m sorry, no, _please David_ \- I want yours, I want your fingers in me, please!”

Blessedly, he feels a cool, slick touch. It’s more than spit - he must have lubed his fingers up, but Patrick didn’t even notice through the pleasant haze beginning to veil his brain. “Wow, honey. Your hole is so fucking hungry for it. You’re practically pulling me in,” David says conversationally as he slides one finger smoothly all the way inside, Patrick crying out far louder than is really acceptable this early in the game. He's embarrassed. He fucking loves it.

David’s fingers are a work of art. They’re silky-soft and immaculately manicured; pretty and slender, but the overall size of his hands means they’re still deliciously thick. Shortly after Patrick met David, when he’d carried out a _respectable_ amount of research into the logistics of sex with a man, he’d sort of assumed fingering was… a means to an end. Pleasurable, sure, but not the main event.

David wasted no time in showing him how wrong he was. Now, Patrick thinks he’d die for David’s fingers in his ass. 

Patrick’s panting already, hole fluttering around just one. He’s chanting, “More, more, more,” - but David’s an asshole, and instead of adding another he deliberately rakes his fingernail over Patrick’s prostate, an intense flash of pleasure-pain that has him yelping and jerking away. David holds him in place, makes him ride it out as he does it again, soothing it with the softer pad of his finger each time. Somehow - is he using his thumb? His other hand? Patrick has no fucking clue - he starts rubbing maddening circles into his taint, slowly building up the pressure until it aches in his balls. 

“ _Fuck_ , oh my god, oh my god,” he gasps, rubbing his face into the sheets like a goddamn cat in heat. David’s not so much fucking him as he is _stroking_ him on the inside, careful and precise in the way he massages each of Patrick’s favourite spots, mapping out every inch of his most vulnerable space. It’s a liquid heat that pools in the base of his spine with every purposeful touch, and Patrick is so, so lost in it.

“Another?”

“ _Yes_ , fuck yes, David, fucking stretch me out on them, you’re so fucking good at - _oh_ ,” Patrick wails, burying it in the sheets as David adds another. It sinks in easily, not a lot to take; but David has all his composed energy channeled into taking him apart, and it's overwhelming.

“Your cock is dripping all over the bed, you dirty little slut.”

Patrick _sobs_ , squeezing around David’s fingers and grabbing the sheets, thinking for a frantic moment he might come just from the words. His face is on fire with that strange mix of shame and arousal that he can’t quite figure out, but David knows exactly what to do, what to say. 

But - oh. Oh no. The fingers have stilled inside him. He’s stopped moving, why the _fuck_ has he stopped moving?

“Hm, my hand’s getting tired.” _Motherfucker_ , Patrick thinks, for the second time. “If you want it so bad, you can fuck yourself on them.”

Cheeks flaring hotter, Patrick pushes shakily up onto his hands and starts shoving his hips back, uncoordinated and graceless but he doesn’t _care_ , he can’t care about anything except squirming around on David’s fingers to search for the sweetest angle. David holds his hand unwaveringly still, and when Patrick throws a glance over his shoulder he sees him looking almost bored, crisply surveying him. A heady, shameful flame licks his spine, curls in the pit of his stomach, shoots down his cock.

The leather of David’s sleeve brushes his cheek with every thrust backwards, reminding him that he’s stripped bare and vulnerable, for David to lazily do as he pleases with him. Patrick’s thighs burn as he, urgently grinds against David’s hand, searching for _deeperdeeperdeeper._ He groans in frustration, every tendon in his body straining for something he can’t reach. “Fuck, I can’t - I need more, please, s’not enough --” 

David gives a low, quiet laugh, and when he speaks it’s sweet but mocking. “Oh, poor baby. You’re so fucking greedy but you can’t bear to do any of the work, huh? And here I thought you’d do whatever it took to get my fingers in your ass.”

Patrick ducks his head, squeezing his eyes shut, but he’s moaning brokenly and nodding and suddenly he feels the mattress dip as David braces a knee on the bed. The breath punches out of Patrick as his chest hits the mattress, bodily shoved with a hand between his shoulder blades - “God, _yes_ , please give it to me, fucking _give it to me_ ,” and David does. 

David holds him down and shoves his legs apart and fingers him like he’s getting paid to do it. He buries two deep, deeper than Patrick could ever have gotten them, tracing a firm circle around his prostate before pulling back teasingly slow, until his rim clings desperately to his fingertips, and then he does it all over again. Each thrust in is hard and firm, Patrick’s shouts becoming strangled when David slides his other hand to the back of his neck and pins him there instead. It’s a steady, controlled pressure that sends his head spinning, that floaty feeling blanketing him with fuzzy warmth and carrying his own cries and sobs far, far away.

“Fuck, Patrick, yeah,” David breathes out, awed, the facade slipping slightly.

“Please - _please,_ David, oh _shit_ goddamn it I love your fucking fingers, please don’t stop... _”_ Patrick's cheeks are wet. He barely knows what he’s saying. 

“Yeah? You want three, honey?”

“No, I fucking - _ah_ \- I need _all of them!_ ”

The fingers still.

Patrick whimpers pitifully, not understanding why David’s stopped, _again_. He just explicitly asked him _not to stop_. 

“Um. What was that?”

Patrick struggles to drag himself down to Earth, feeling sluggish and stupid as he replays whatever he’s just said - _oh_. Shit. “Wait. I don’t - I didn’t mean --” The hand disappears from his neck and he forces himself to look back at David, who’s staring at him like he just grew a second head. Patrick really, really doesn’t want any of this to stop, even if this _is_ something they probably need to discuss at a later date. He laughs it off, but it’s uncharacteristically nervous. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes, you did,” David murmurs softly, pulling out and teasing his fingers around Patrick’s fucked-out hole, dipping them lower between his legs. “You did, and you’re _so_ nice and hard thinking about it, aren’t you?”

A pause. He’s giving him an out. Patrick knows the exact word to utter if he wants to take it. His legs shake at the cool touch of David’s fingers gently tracing from his balls to his tip. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead and he blinks away the sting. He doesn’t deny it. He can’t. David makes a satisfied noise at Patrick’s submissive form, his touch dancing up to his hole again, thank _God_.

“Not today,” David muses thoughtfully. “But one day, maybe, if I think you’ve earned it. I’ll give it to you.”

Patrick _moans_ , long and primal, shoving back as David plunges three fingers deep inside. 

“ _If_ I do - I’ll have to be careful not to touch that needy cock of yours too soon. You’re so desperate, you’ll probably blow your fucking load as soon as I do, won’t you?”

Patrick doesn’t speak, can’t speak, mindlessly groaning into the sheets - they’re damp. He’s drooling, or maybe crying, or both. His mind is elsewhere, strung along by each vivid brushstroke of the picture David’s painting.

“Although, come to think of it, maybe I’ll need to make you come beforehand, hm? It’s a _lot_ to take, honey. Need you loose and open if you’re gonna let me sink my whole _fucking hand_ into your ass.”

“Yes,” Patrick whispers. “Yes.”

“Mm-hmm. So I’ll leave my rings on while I jerk you off - because you like that, don’t you, Patrick? Feeling them sliding over your cock.”

Patrick _knows_ he’s crying now, in the most mortifyingly delicious way. He shifts awkwardly to try to reach his dick, but David knocks his hand away almost uncaringly. The confident warmth of David’s hand around him betrays the act straight away, though, each stroke a comforting assurance that he’ll get him there.

“Once you’ve come all over yourself, I’ll make you watch while I take them off, nice and slow - one - by - one.” He punctuates the words with firm taps against Patrick’s prostate, and he’s going to _burst into flames_ , holy _shit_. “You’ll want it all at once, but I’ll make you wait. I'll take my time sliding each finger inside of you, watching your hole open up for me, and you’ll be begging me like the shameless fucking slut you are.”

“Please - please, David, fucking Christ I want it, _pleasepleaseplease_ \--”

“Yep, just like that.” 

There’s a smug smile in his voice. Patrick jumps as a cold drizzle of slippery-wet drips down the cleft of his ass, so much more than they’d usually use. David smears it all around, shoves it inside, until he’s messy with it.

“Gotta get you all wet and sloppy - need your ass fucking dripping for me if you’re gonna take all of that. D’you really think you can?”

Patrick pants out something that doesn’t even come close to words. He feels like a slut as David’s fingers fuck noisily into him - wanton and brazen and sexy. David’s three fingers line up in a neat row, deliberately stretching him wide enough that he hisses through his teeth. And then - _fuck_ , he _spreads_ them, pushing Patrick even further - he’s taunting him with a taste of how it would feel to open up around all four, to give in as David tucks his thumb inside and makes him take everything. He imagines the widest part of David’s hand inching into him, and shudders violently. “I can,” he insists, “I can, I can, I can take it.”

David hums doubtfully, and Patrick aches to prove himself. David’s hand leaves his cock for a terrible moment until - _crack_ \- it comes down sharp and stinging on his ass-cheek.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Patrick’s voice is hoarse. He cries out and arches into it as David rains down four more slaps over the backs of his thighs and the meat of his ass. “Fuck - _fuck!_ David - _ah!”_

“Yeah, Patrick. You’ll let me do anything to this ass, won’t you? Want me to stretch your filthy fucking hole out with four of my fingers, until you’re screaming and you think you can’t take any more - and then, then I’ll give you the rest. I’ll fucking stuff you full.”

He’s stroking his cock again, firm and fast. Patrick is going to come. He’s going to come so hard that the approaching wave almost panics him. He bites blindly at the sheets and trembles between David’s fingers and his hands, whimpering _yes_ and _God_ and _David_.

“Yeah - fuck, that’s it.” David sounds breathless, at least. “You really are _ridiculously_ needy. I bet I’ll have to hold you down - maybe I’ll tie you up - because you won’t be able to do as you’re told and take it, will you? Too greedy to stay still, you’ll be fucking riding my entire hand.”

Patrick nods feverishly, crying out too much to speak.

“Hm.” David blankets his back suddenly, denim and cotton and leather pressed against Patrick’s sweat-sticky skin. His words tickle hotly at Patrick’s ear. “The thing is, honey… I don’t know if you deserve it.”

That’s it. Patrick’s _done_. The world fades into a static buzz of white as he trembles and shouts and writhes, David’s hand squeezing him just right and steadying him through it. He feels it in his toes, in his skull, crashing over him until he thinks he might never, ever resurface.

Dimly, he registers David easing him onto his back and wiping gently at his tear-streaked cheeks. He thinks he feels him peppering kisses over his hands, uncurling his numb fingers from their iron grip on the sheets. David might be pressing a bottle of water into his hands and touching a cool cloth to his belly and smoothing cream into the red handprints he left behind, but equally, Patrick might be dreaming. The next few minutes - hours? - fade in and out, until Patrick finds himself cocooned in David’s arms, his fingers calmly playing with the hair at the nape of Patrick’s neck. He grunts, shifts, peeks up at David.

“There you are.” David’s smile is soft, sparkling in his eyes. “Thought I’d lost you for good. I was starting to consider where I’d find a stand-in groom.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever walk again, anyway, so that might be for the best.” The words come out slurred, and Patrick snorts at himself, because it’s so ridiculous, and he’s so _happy_.

“Mmm. So. We should probably talk about _that_ , at some point,” David says, in that serious, talking-about-sex-things-is-super-easy-for-me tone which Patrick is still envious of.

He hums in agreement, his eyes slipping closed. “I know. Sleep first, though.”

“Yeah.” David drops a kiss onto his forehead. “Sleep first.”

David's fingers curl around his bicep, pulling him in tight. Four cool bands of gold slowly warm against his skin, and Patrick drifts away with a smile on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading, and congrats on making it through to the end. Idk how this got so long. Here's a bottle of water.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment/kudos if you liked, I love hearing from you guys! <3


End file.
